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“Hey, there,” he said softly, cupping her face in his hands. “You alive?”
Her eyes opened slowly. Her features had assumed the blurred, dreamy expression of a sated masochist. “Better than alive,” she breathed.
“You really are a very dirty girl, Lia Duvall.”
Some of her natural spark returned, her eyes narrowing as her lips lifted into a sassy smile. “You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”
He shook his head, grinning back at her. “Quite the contrary, I assure you.” Recalling his task, he added, “I need to get you out of these ropes now.”
He worked quickly, first removing the breast harness and then releasing her from the suspension ring. He brought her arms down carefully and then unwrapped the ropes that bound them. He rubbed her flesh gently to get her circulation going again.
“There you go,” he eventually said, bringing her arms down to her sides. “A little of Mistress Aubrey’s miracle salve and you’ll be good as new.”
“Looks like we caught you at the right time.”
Beau looked up to see Anthony and a slender woman in her early forties, as petite as Lia, by his side. The woman wore a deep blue slave collar and a gold wedding band that matched the one on Anthony’s ring finger. Her breasts were striped with red lines from a recent lashing. Her smooth mons was also stippled with evidence of a single tail’s kiss.
“That was quite the scene,” Anthony said with a lift of his brow. “I’m impressed with your rope skills and your finesse in handling your sub girl.”
Beau hadn’t been aware they were being watched. Not that he should have been especially surprised. It was common in BDSM dungeons to attract an audience. There were only so many scene stations available, after all.
He acknowledged Anthony’s praise with a smile. “Those swiveling suspension rings are top notch. They made it easy.”
“Glad to hear it. We only caught the tail end of the scene.” Anthony shifted his gaze to Lia. “I trust our little spitfire behaved herself?”
“Well enough,” Beau replied with a snort.
Anthony chuckled knowingly, though with none of the derision Lawrence’s tone had carried. He placed a hand on the shoulder of the naked woman standing so quietly beside him. “This is Lucia, my slave girl.”
Ah, so this was the woman Lia so admired and had hoped to emulate. He could see why. Her submissive grace radiated around her like an aura as she bowed her head, a shy smile on her lovely face. “A pleasure to meet you, Master Beau.”
The honorific caught Beau by surprise. Though he was aware this usage was standard protocol at The Enclave, he wasn’t used to hearing himself addressed that way. He found he quite liked it.
“You, as well, Lucia.”
She stood on tiptoe to murmur something in Anthony’s ear. At his nod, Lucia moved onto the mat. The two women began to talk softly to each other.
“Tomorrow morning we can all sit down and discuss the particulars of your role here,” Anthony said to Beau. “After watching you tonight, I have some new ideas.”
Beau wasn’t sure what he meant by that but decided to wait and see. “Sounds good,” he replied.
Chapter 8
Lia collapsed into her bed in the slave quarters, physically exhausted from the intense evening but too wound up to sleep. She hadn’t wanted the night to end. But, after applying more salve to her bruised bottom, Beau had basically ordered her to bed, informing her she’d had quite enough for one night.
It was shocking in retrospect to realize she’d let that man—who had just been a scene partner, after all, not her lover and certainly not her Master—tell her what to do. What was even more shocking was that she’d obeyed him.
She wasn’t sure what to think or feel about Beau Jackson. Yes, he was gorgeous. And holy shit, he was good with rope. And those hands, so strong and sure as they heated her skin—and her cunt—to a fever pitch. Still, experience told her that her raging crush on the guy might only be a response to how easily he’d taken dominant control of her. Once she came down from the high of the BDSM endorphins still coursing through her, she might feel differently.
Then there was the matter of his age. Eleven years was a significant gap. Though she herself was fine with it, what could a thirty-five-year-old tenured professor possibly see in her, beyond an occasional BDSM play partner?
But, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, he was so incredibly hot tonight. So masterful. So sure. So sexy…
Whether or not that amazing scene was just a one-off, she remained almost painfully aroused, her clit throbbing. She definitely needed to climax if she was ever going to get to sleep.
Rolling to her back, she let her legs fall open. Closing her eyes, she slipped into the ropes Beau had so artfully wrapped around her and let the feel of his strong, stinging hand heat her blood as she rubbed her aching sex.
She came quickly, gasping softly as her body shuddered with release. Warmth coursed through her body as she imagined Beau’s big, strong arms wrapping around her, pulling her into a snuggling embrace as they drifted together toward sleep.
